


Blossom

by hazelandglasz



Category: Glee
Genre: (sort of), Body Worship, Cunnilingus, F/F, Fluff, Frottage, Praise Kink, Wooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 16:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6086161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mercedes will show Santana just how much fun they can have together--in and out of the bedroom</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blossom

Roughly inspired by @hotpapayas  [ drawing  ](http://hotpapayas.tumblr.com/post/139649707784/ladddieesssss) and I guess I wanted some praise fic, so sue me

 

Back when they’re in High school, Mercedes notices Santana’s body.

Of course she does, who has functioning eyes and doesn’t notice Santana’s body.

Even Kurt notices how hot she is.

Mercedes observes, how supple she is, how soft her skin looks, how Santana has curves but not everywhere, not like her.

And when she catches herself dreaming of running her fingers along those curves, she wakes up with a start, and she shakes her head because this is just …

Stupid.

She likes men, for one, and she--

How could Santana look at her that way anyway, right?

A couple of years after graduation, though, Mercedes notices something else.

She’s not the only one looking.

_ Santana  _ is looking at  _ her _ .

Mercedes got more confident, in the lapse of time, she knows her body, she knows how strong and beautiful it, she, is.

She knows how attractive she is, and she also knows that liking men has nothing to do with liking women.

Not mutually exclusive, so to speak.

With the knowledge that Santana is looking at her that way, after all, Mercedes moves onto her.

It’s small things, compliments, about how a dress fits, how funny a joke was, how good her Mojito was.

Mercedes knows that they could pass as simple compliments between friends, but she pays attention, see, and the blush on Santana’s cheeks and chest doesn’t go unnoticed.

Mercedes ends up asking her out over coffee, and for two whole seconds, Santana is stunned silent, blinking like an owl while her fingers tighten around her cup.

Mercedes is about to just flee the coffee shop when Santana blinks, and her smiles turns into a grin.

“R-really?” she asks, letting go of the cup to cover Mercedes’ hand. “You … you want to go on a date? With me?”

“Duh.”

Not Mercedes’ proudest moment, she’s aware, but she thought she was being painfully obvious.

Santana’s grin only grows, and Mercedes closes her fingers around hers. 

“It’s a date then.”

\---

Mercedes makes sure to use whatever money she won during her tour to good use, buying Santana flowers--small bunches of daisies and wildflowers, but always including at least one rose button, because Mercedes wants to see Santana  _ blossom-- _ and taking her to good restaurants.

Not necessarily the most expensive in town, but the best ones, the ones where they are treated like ladies no matter how much they spend, the ones where Santana moans around her cutlery.

The ones worthwhile.

They take their time, keeping it pretty chaste, given Santana’s past relationships, but Mercedes makes sure that Santana knows how much Mercedes likes her, likes her looks.

It doesn’t come as a surprise, then, that Santana practically pounces on Mercedes when Mercedes offers Santana to stay the night with just that hint of a smirk in her smile.

The moment clothes start flying around, an old surge of self doubt creeps around Mercedes’ heart, making her try to turn off the light or cover herself.

But Santana is here, fingers gentle as they push them away from Mercedes’ body, away from the lamp’s switch, with eyes wide and dark and adoring.

“Come on, honey,” she purrs, slowly sliding her fingers down Mercedes’ torso, to the elastic band of her lacy boxers, “I’ve waited so long to be able to look at you …”

This time around, Mercedes is the one blushing, but she moves her hands to Santana’s shoulders, to the back of her head when Santana kneels down in front of her.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Santana whispers, pressing a kiss at the crease of Mercedes’ leg, her long hair tickling Mercedes’ pelvic mound before she moves them over her shoulder. “So beautiful, so for me …”

Mercedes doesn’t follow all of the words Santana lavishes onto her skin with every kiss, every press of her fingers, every flick of her tongue, but she does know one thing.

She has never felt so beautiful, so confident, so powerful in her life than she is now, with Santana worshipping her body and making her feel more than a queen, like a goddess.

When she comes, she lets herself slide against the wall--and God, they didn’t even make it past the bedroom’s  _ entrance _ \--, Santana guiding her to the floor and crawling up her body to nuzzle her neck.

“Hmm, thank you,” Santana sighs against Mercedes’ breast, her hand lazily gropping the free one while she rolls her hips, rolls her pussy really, against Mercedes’ leg.

Mercedes starts giggling, reaching to cup Santana’s asscheek and squeeze. “Shouldn’t I be the one thanking you here?”

Santana looks up, and makes a big show of licking her lips. “Nuh-huh.”

Mercedes hums before reaching down between Santana’s leg with her free hand. “Let me return the favor, then,  _ princesita _ ,” she whispers, guiding Santana to straighten up and ride her leg properly while she reaches for Santana’s clit, rubbing it in a counter tempo to the one Santana is applying with the roll of her hips.

Santana comes with a shout, a laugh that ends up in a long moan as she slows down before letting herself fall back on top of Mercedes, who closes her arms around her.

“Maybe next time we can make it to the bed,” Mercedes says thoughtfully, and a brief moment of silence falls over them until they both start laughing.

“Maybe we’ll manage that.”

“Maybe.”


End file.
